


SCARECROW

by prettylittledarkstar



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: AU, F/M, RATING WILL LIKELY CHANGE AS STORY PROGRESSES, a whimsical sort of steampunk with elements of the Wizard of Oz, bickering like an angry old couple, bless her, inspired by a really lovely piece from a1army, out of universe and into a whole new one, rey has no concept of privacy or personal space, scarecrow kylo, they're not totally human??, what the heck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-02-26 12:36:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13235877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettylittledarkstar/pseuds/prettylittledarkstar
Summary: Vagrant Rey lives a lonely and unsatisfactory life with her companion Beebee the bloodhound, scavenging abandoned farms and barns in the wastelands of Ruste to find replacement parts for her bionic leg that falls apart a little each day. One day while limping through a somewhat overgrown wheat field, she comes across a looming scarecrow and asks him a simple question: "Aren't you supposed to *scare* the crows?"-A whimsical tale of life, magic, and the man who couldn't scare.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a1army](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a1army/gifts).



> enjoy. xx anya

The barn doors shuddered as she swung them open. A sickening smell of sweet rotted wood and old hay greeted her nostrils, and with a rush of heat that emanated from its many days baking in the sun, she stepped in.

Rey sighed, not quite content but not disappointed at its innards.

A cloud of dust particles danced in the slits of light that creeped through the cracks of the old building as she limped through its open spaces, searching for something that would be of use. Today she hoped to find a replacement part for her deteriorating tibia, but one could only hope in these conditions. Scarcity clung to Rey no matter how hard she tried to shake it.

She surveyed the barn, eyes skimming over broken and rusted farm equipment, scavenged bags of animal feed, and an assortment of ancient tools hanging on the walls. Barrels once full of water now housed spiders and their mischievous homes. Bugs scurried away from her scope-light whenever it reached them, and she was grateful; she never wanted to know what sort of multi-legged creatures lied in the shadows of the neglected buildings of the Outskirts.

Nothing but the sound of her mechanical step and her hound’s sniffing echoed through the silence. And then a little ‘oof’ came from Beebee. Then came the sound of shifting until Rey crouched down as best she could to see what he had found. Tucked away behind an old crate sat a pile of dusty and rusted parts, none of which were of use to her except to grind down and mix into her combative darts, but she had plenty to spare. After some sifting through, a glint caught her eye and she yanked it free from where it was lodged in the grip of an activated bear trap. It came out mostly intact, save for a few scratches along the shaft, and it was nearly the perfect length.

She dug through the pouch hanging on her hip in search for her scrubber and her glass to inspect the piece. Raising the glass to her eye and switching on the light, she watched as the shiny rod seemed to turn to a metallic translucence when reflecting light.

“Looks good to me,” she said, and shoved everything back into her pouch before using her staff to push herself back up.

“This will do just fine, Beebee,” she praised, “Good boy.”

Giving him a scratch behind the ears for his quick work, she remembered how slow it had been when it was only her, and just how lonely she was without him. Finding the lost puppy wandering the forests of Faru all those years ago was the best day of her life. Since then he had become her companion, keeping her company and sniffing out the best parts available.

The mid-afternoon heat greeted her at the entrance of the barn and she stepped into the sun, ready to travel a mile or so to the next farm and take what she could find. In these parts, the sky always reflected a pale grayish blue unless it stormed, and then it looked drab and even more gray. Yet the sun always beat down hardest in the open fields, and Rey’s freckled neck and shoulders showed for it.

As she trudged down the path leading her back to the main road, a glimpse of shine caught her eye and she turned to look out at the field beside her. The wheat beckoned her to it like a golden sea, pulsing with great shudders from the kisses of the wind and whispering sweet and dry entreaties into her ear. A quick stroll couldn’t hurt, right? And though Rey loved green, she loved gold the most.

One step onto the field's dirt trail told her that it had yet to be plowed. Despite the barn’s lengthy neglect, the field had likely just recently been abandoned, for the wheat reached the top of her shoulders but did not seem dead or even dying. It seemed to be doing quite well, in fact. 

Figuring that it still was late in the morning, Rey continued making her way down the trail, unsure of where she was headed because of the hills of tall grass that obstructed her view. A few minutes in and she began to truly take in her surroundings: how the sun glinted off the field in a most blinding way; and how the dirt beneath her feet was cracked and tufts of grass poked through; and how the hills felt alive, buzzing, thrumming with energy she could not describe.

Stopping to rip a blade of wheat from the dirt, she stuck it between her teeth, spreading her feet wide apart and bending her knees. Her face twisted up into a hard-lined grimace like the old farmers made whenever she clunked past.

"Hands where I can see 'em," she drawled to the hound squatting before her, "Give me the goods."

Beebee made a disgruntled sound of judgement and tilted his head to the side, ears wobbling with the shift in gravity.

She lost the façade and straightened.

"I suppose I was never meant for moving pictures," she sighed, heaving her bag back onto her shoulder and picking up her staff, "But would it kill you to let me have a little fun?"

 

~~~~~~~~

 

The two of them trudged down the path, with Beebee sniffing the dry, cracked dirt ever so often to ensure that all was safe. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead and into her eyes as the sun beat down relentlessly, not a cloud in the sky.

It was already past noon and rapidly approaching the most scorching part of the day. The heat grew sticky, so sticky and humid that she considered turning around just to get to a place of shade, but she knew that both decisions would take just as long, and one way led to disappointment while the other led to mystery and an unshakeable excitement vibrating beneath her skin.

Stopping momentarily, Rey let her pack slide to the ground as she rolled up the ankles of her dirty overalls and ripped off her shirt, leaving her just in her arm bindings and her wrap.

A passing breeze hit her neck and her now exposed sides and the sweat that had accumulated there acted as a coolant to somewhat lower her body temperature. She almost sighed in relief at the feeling.

Rey grabbed her canteen from her pack and took a tentative sip, careful not to waste what little water she had on a quiet heat as this. She filled the shallow lid and set it down before her hound, who drained it before she straightened up. When she took it away, Beebee peered up at her with sorrowful eyes, begging for more, but Rey merely shook her head.

"We'll find some more soon, I promise," she said as she screwed the lid back on and continued her mechanical limp through the winding turns of this overgrown field. Though she wasn't so certain about finding water, she hoped to find something useful, and her gut told her to keep on.

So she did. Past a broken and half-buried tractor, disrupting a get-together between crows, Rey and her little dog trudged on and on and on. And on. And on and on.

Until she came to a fork in the trail that split into two. One way led downhill to an abandoned cart. The other way curved almost back around to face where they had come from, only it tipped upward before one could think to abandon it as an option. Rey wanted desperately to go downwards, but reminded herself that what went up must fall down, and going up first always proved rewarding. 

So she chose the curved hill and panted on her way up, her leg clanking and making like it would give out the moment she stepped the wrong way. For as minuscule as the hill looked, it was steep and quite rude to her tired body. But when she reached the top of this little slope, an interesting sight sat before her.

A dark figure loomed about seven or eight feet high, arms stretched out, hands limp, head and shoulders slumped to show nothing but a mop of dark hair. Mangled and tattered were the fabrics draped over this specimen, this scarecrow. And perched at the tip of the wooden pole keeping him up sat a crow. It studied her before looking away in disinterest. Rey then noticed the two crows peck at the cracks in the dirt below his feet.

"Aren't you supposed to _scare_ the crows?" she asked, regarding the pale face with curious eyes. How did his complexion retain none of the sun’s kisses? Maybe it had something to do with the dark hair hanging in his eyes. This scarecrow topped her list of the saddest she had ever seen.

"Can you tell me where I am?" she asked politely, hoping she hadn't pissed him off. Perhaps he had been sleeping, had awoken to her insult, and was now refusing to speak.

"Scarecrows aren't usually so silent," she mumbled as she looked him over once more.

Then she walked up and tugged on his raggedy tunic.

"Hey! What's the matter with you?" Nothing.

Rey glanced to Beebee and shrugged. "I'd hate to be a scarecrow too, I suppose."

She backed up a little and examined his bound wrists, the way his hands sagged and his shoulders slumped in defeat as though he'd given up. Scarecrows normally argued with her on directions, especially when she knew they were misguiding her to the Badlands. Never did they refuse to speak, though. 

"Perhaps you'd like to be let down for some water? Don't get too cocky, though. I've always been able to tie them back up," she said, recalling one scarecrow who had tried to kill her and steal her pack when she took him to a stream for a refreshment. She had put him back in his place, alright. 

Rey circled his stick, trying to figure out the best way to get him down. Determining that she had nothing to balance on, she jumped up from behind, grabbed hold of his shoulders and the stick binding his arms, and wrapped her leg around his torso, leaving the other to dangle uselessly.

Grunting, she adjusted until she got a better grip on him and colored herself a little surprised to find him breathing. He felt warm and strong beneath her fingers, with muscles hiding under his skin that Rey sensed as a sign of suspicion. As far as she knew, she was the only one in all of Ruste that let down the scarecrows, and she certainly hadn't come across this shadow to let him down for a good workout. Scarecrows were often nothing more than a corpse of rag and bones and sunken eyes that glittered at an opportunity to misguide a poor lost soul.

She concluded that he had been placed under the influence of a dark magic of sorts, trapping him in a state of suspended animation for God knows how long. And that was a generous conclusion. For a moment, she considered jumping down and running for the hills, but something inside of her said to untie him. So she did, with an undignified pant each time she had to shift over and work at the knots keeping him there. When she released one of his arms, it swung lifelessly to his side and his entire body threatened to hang off and rip his bound arm from its socket had she not been clinging to him and keeping him in place. The next arm she struggled with even more than the first, and after minutes of fighting with the knots, she threw her head back and let out a frustrated groan. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead, down her neck, down her shoulders and onto the plane of her back. But she wouldn’t give up now. She literally couldn’t, else she’d be the cause of his hand getting ripped off.

Another attempt, and this time she succeeded, allowing him to slump away from her shaking leg.

Rey swore she felt the ground below her quiver when he fell to his hands and knees with a grunt. The fall was almost like a key that unlocked a part of him, for he sucked in an agonizing breath and coughed raggedly. She slid down and hobbled over to him, fighting to tame her sweat. When he lifted his head to see who had taken him down, Rey noticed he appeared much less discerning when he was responsive. A boyish face spotted with beauty marks and freckles looked up at her, and his light brown eyes flickered with admiration and shock. Quite a lovely face, had it not been clouded with a scar that looked like a child had stitched together, leaving jagged marks that extended from the middle of his forehead and through his right cheek, all the way down to his neck and beyond to parts she could not see. It was fitting, she thought, as it added to his scarecrow vibe. Perhaps she quite liked his face, even with the scar.

"You freed me." His voice was hoarse and deep and much richer than she had imagined and it shot a little spark of something through her. By the lions of Faru, yes she did free him!

But now wasn't the time to play nice. She knew the tricks of scarecrows.

"You looked pathetic enough, hanging like a soggy linen in the breeze," she scoffed, staring down at him. She softened a little. "I thought you'd like a drink of water and a break. Stuff's scarce around these parts."

She held her canteen out to him, hesitant to lose precious resources but always, in every way, Rey. She had to help him out however she could. Friends were better than enemies, what goes around comes around and all that.

He pawed desperately at the proffered jug but had no control over his fingers quite yet; the lack of use was enough to revert them back to an infantile state of physicality. So Rey knelt before him and lifted the water to his lips, where he gulped thirstily, streams of the liquid trickling down his neck and pooling into his cowl. He sucked down all of her water before she knew what was happening.

"Hey!" she shouted, ripping it from him and peering into the empty canteen and then glaring at him, "What in the name of—That was all the water I've seen in days! Now I _will_ die here."

"I'm sorry," he gasped, taking a deep breath and wiping his mouth with his arm. His shoulders shuddered as he regained his breath. She quickly scurried back upon the realization of his size, and by God was he humungous. Taller than any other scarecrow she had crossed paths with, for sure. He was like a great big tree.

She squinted at him, suddenly angry. “Why didn’t you answer me the first hundred and fifty times I called to you?”

He seemed unsure of the question himself as he furrowed his eyebrows in thought. Rey stood before him, watching his vulnerable face go through many cycles—confusion, understanding, contempt, sorrow.

“Cursed,” he muttered, eyes soft and mouth downturned, “Cursed to be a silent scarecrow until I was let down. Yet still I am cursed. I have no heart. Unless the one who frees me takes me to the wizard." 

 _“The wizard?”_ She almost scoffed. She had never heard of a wizard, and she’d been roaming Ruste long enough. The longer she talked to him the more he seemed like one of those magicians trying to rob her of her money. He had probably feigned his uncontrollable silence just to get her to let him down, and planned to steal her supplies and make a run for it. Scarecrow men were often a breed of sneaky, conniving little brats that lusted after freedom and money and power. She understood, she supposed, but if she was a scarecrow, she'd make do with what she had.

“Yes. I know how to find him. If—If you take me there, I’m sure he’ll give you a new leg. One that actually works.”

Rey glanced at her leg defensively and glared back at him. What did he know about her condition? “I don’t _need a new leg_ , thank you very much.”

And then, as if some supernatural force was out to get her, a screw popped loose from her knee and clattered to the ground, which in turn sent the lower half of her leg askew. She toppled over, landing on her side into the dirt with a clang of metal and skin.

Would life ever provide her the smallest shred of dignity?

He stifled a snort and Rey shot a ferocious glare at him.

“Why should I help you?” she grunted as she fumbled with her calf, tightening the bolts and twisting a cog to test out the movement before she had to realign the damn thing and reattach it.

“You seemed keen on helping me not even three minutes ago,” he offered, but that was far from the answer she wanted to hear. 

"Only for a brief time! This is a much lengthier engagement. I'll need something in return," she said sharply. He made no move. The only noise between them was the rustling of the wheatgrass and the soft clicks of her leg as she tinkered with it.

"Besides a desperately needed new leg?"

Rey rolled her eyes and thought about tying him back up. Surely he wasn't too heavy. "Yes. I don't take people to make-believe wizards in make-believe places just for the hell of it."

"Nothing about this situation is make-believe."

"A house," she said softly, "I want a house. Nothing big. One room is fine. But I want it by a river"—a thought occurred to her—"and I want a store. Not a booth at the Undermarkets. A store." 

"I can't just—"

"Do you want me to take you to the wizard or not?"

He huffed and chewed on the inside of his cheek, eyes wandering in contemptuous thought. She finished tightening the final screw in place and pushed herself back to her feet, careful to place gentle pressure on her leg.

"Alright," she said, brushing her hands off, "What'll it be, hay-sleeves?"

"Perhaps I'll stay silent." He eyed her with a fiery gaze, insulted by her unfiltered mouth.

"Oh, c'mon. What have you got to lose?"

"My dignity. My pride. My _life_ —"

"You've already lost your heart."

"And you seem to have lost your manners." He seemed thoroughly offended at her bluntness. So be it, then.

“I could take you to this…wizard, or I could hang you right back up for all of eternity. Which will it be?”

He seemed to contemplate his options only briefly, but she saw the way in which his lack of control over this situation affected him.

“Fine.”

Rey sighed.

What little did she have to lose? These days she based her life off of what she found in the cracks of abandoned society. Risks existed to be taken. 

"Get up then," she said sternly, watching as he looked her over as if this was the first time he had truly seen her. Then, he fought with his weak limbs to try and push himself up. 

No such luck.

Rey offered him her staff, which he regarded as merely an obstruction and waved away. She chuckled when, after minutes of struggling, he ripped it from her outstretched grasp and begrudgingly used it to aid him.

“Where to?” she asked, looking both directions down the dirt path before staring at him. He appeared conflicted, lost in thought.

“I…I can’t remember. There were directions, and…someone said to—Follow...follow something,"

"You said you knew how to get to him!" Great. The more time she spent with him, the less she trusted him. She lifted her staff slightly in an unconscious act of self-defense.

"Well shit, I've been asleep so long I can't remember a damn thing."

He scowled at her. She scowled back.

"Just give me a minute,” he said, mumbling “follow” to himself while tugging at the roots of his hair.

A sense of dread filled her stomach the more she pondered his words, and an old saying echoed in her mind.

...No.

If the scarecrow even mentioned the yellow brick road, she’d flip.

“Follow the yellow brick road.”

Ugh. Why had she expected anything else?

“The yellow brick road was destroyed five years ago. They replaced it. Some parts hold strips of markets and some are nothing but dirt. It's gone." 

"I suspected as much. There's another way," he said, a certainty in his voice that was not hard to believe.

Five minutes later and not much had changed. They still remained next to his stick, and Rey had threatened at least once to put him back up.

"You've got to be out of your mind!" she exclaimed, and if this wasn't such an odd situation, she would have laughed.

"Maybe. But the dark forest is the only other way."

"Can't we just go around?"

"Can't you just go around a river bank to get to the other side?" he asked, rolling his eyes.

"How about this: we'll go to the Markets, find my friend, and ask if she has a map of the trail that the yellow brick road followed."

They really had no other option. She had the upper hand. And as far as he knew, he could be anywhere in the world. He considered her words for a long time, long enough that she thought he had just given up on any conversation at all. Until he spoke with a tangible reluctance seeping through his tone.

"Fine."

 

~~~~~~~

 

Somehow they managed to make it out of the field without scratching each other's eyes out. In fact, the walk was rather quiet. Neither spoke a word, instead deciding to walk in hostile silence as Rey grew warier about her decision to help him. Now they walked down the road and towards the city, the sun still beating down on them with an unending ferocity.

For quite some time now, Rey kept sneaking glances to the shadow that sulked beside her, and every time she caught him staring at her. He would quickly flick his eyes to the ground or to a point ahead of him when he noticed he had been compromised. The last time she looked, his eyes were glued to her neck and the regions directly below. Another quick glance informed her of his once more wandering eyes, now intent on watching her side with keen interest. She felt her blood boiling.

Could a man ever keep to himself?

"What?" she snapped, "Never seen a girl without her shirt on?"

"N-No," he spluttered, blinking rapidly to recover, "I–I was just hoping you would help take off my arm bindings. I'm sweating."

He referred to his still half-usable hands and smiled sheepishly as a rosy pink tinted his cheeks.

She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the side of their path and into a patch of green. As she inspected his attire and circled him, he stood at attention for her, shoulders square and expression unwavering.

"You don't want to take off your arm bindings," she said analytically. He held up a hand and opened his mouth to protest, but she shut him up.

"The sun is mischievous and likes to play silly games with her heat and her shine. I'm quite clever, though. The bindings keep you from her burns and they soak up sweat. Let's get rid of your scarf. It's unnecessary." She grabbed it and tugged it off, learning from his scowling face that this was not, in fact, a scarf but a _cowl_. Whatever that was. She balled it up and tossed it into her pack, turning to assess him once more. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Nighttime will come. The summertime chill, as I call it,” she said by way of explanation, then knelt before him, grabbed his belt, and fussed with the strange clasp in hopes of getting it undone.

"Are you wearing pants?" she grunted as she finally figured out the belt. He nodded, and she stripped him of his thick robes to reveal a tighter undershirt. Who was he to wear such high quality fabrics? Though tattered at the edges, Rey could tell that these clothes were not mass-produced by machines, thus further fueling her suspicions about him. Scarecrows often wore dirty, raggedy shirts and ripped overalls that hung onto their last days—not this attire. A quick glance at his face told her that he was far from used to this uncivilized way of undressing, and even less used to a woman kneeling before him.

She cleared her throat and looked away when they locked eyes, instead fiddling with his clothes. Attempting to clear the headiness between them, she spoke.

“I never asked…What should I call you?"

"Kylo. And you would be?"

"Oh, they call me many things,” she smirked, pushing herself up and ripping the sleeves of his shirt to expose his shoulders, “Huntress...Breaker of Scaremen's Chains... _Barnyard Demoness_. But you can call me Rey." Who was she, trying to build herself up as someone she wasn't? But he acted so...princely, so royal that she couldn't help it. Sure, she was no one. But he was someone, and maybe just this once, she could be someone too. Even if she was someone just to him.

He remained silent as she continued her assault on his appearance, removing bits and layers before she ended by sitting him on a tree stump to fashion his hair into something that wouldn’t suffocate him.

“The trick to hair is that if you’re not careful, it can stave your flow of energy. The magic that vibrates in the air is what gives me an extra push on rough days. So I keep it up. The neck is often the most vulnerable when it comes to influence. When I’m in an open field, I like my hair up. But when I’m in the markets or somewhere unfamiliar, I take two buns down,” she explained as she weaved his locks into little braids, pulling separate sections into larger braids and then tying them into messy knots like her three. He didn’t have enough hair for three, so she compromised and gave him two little ones, leaving the hair at his nape to hang. Just enough down to protect him, but not enough to overheat him.

“There,” she said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. A small smile worked its way onto her lips when she moved to face him, noting his change in demeanor with his new look and how she had unintentionally styled him to appear more like herself, just in black and sans overalls. 

“Ready?”

She grabbed her pack and hefted it onto her shoulders. Beebee trotted to her side expectantly, tail wagging so hard it wiggled his entire backside.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Another hour found them on the same road, in the same setting, but a little closer to their destination. They had found themselves in the company of a number of crows who swept in and out, squawking and tugging on the loose ends of Kylo’s clothes as if he had stolen something from them. At first a glance, Rey had enough sense to shoo them away when she believed they came for both of them. But she studied their movement and found that they focused only on Kylo, chirping in earnest and pecking at his head and his shirt and everywhere in between. 

A peculiar sight it was, and she laughed a little thinking of how his job was to scare them and yet he only attracted them. After some time, the birds had calmed down and taken spots on Kylo’s head and shoulders. He had given up trying to get them away, and as long as they didn’t harm him, he seemed at most inconvenienced by their presence. A giggle bubbled up in her chest at the sight of Beebee with a crow resting atop his head, walking as if all was normal. What a lovely creature that hound was, always providing entertainment even when he wasn’t aware of it.

Rey glanced over at Kylo and watched as the crow that had perched on his shoulder nipped at his ear. He growled in frustration and watched as he wrapped his hand around the bird, looking just about ready to squeeze the life out of the poor thing. Panic shot through her.

“No,” she said sternly, a warning in her tone, “Birds are friends.”

He huffed and released his grip, but not after shoving the creature away from him with such force that she thought he’d kill it by sheer will alone. The bird fluttered away momentarily, only to return again to his shoulder.

She snorted as he sagged his shoulders and let his head hang, clearly a sign of his surrender.

They walked on and the number of crows dwindled as they got bored with him and found something shiny to scavenge.The crow on Beebee’s head had remained, now fully seated and looking at her surroundings as if she were a person.

“Hmm,” Rey said as she counted all the birds who had left. This was the ninth one, and the only one to stay.

“I’ll call you Niney,” she cooed, stroking the bird’s obsidian feathers. She seemed to like that, for she nudged Rey’s hand with her head.

“Do _not_ name the crows,” he spat, throwing a glare her way, “They’ll only come back.”

“They love you, Kylo,” she said tenderly, “I think they’d come back regardless.”

“Would you like to know what a group of these devil birds is called?” he asked, his voice shaking with barely contained rage.

 “Sure,” she said, hoping not to get into an argument with him, as he already seemed on edge.

“A murder."

"Oh, now you're just being insensitive," she countered, "What's not to love?"

"Crows are highly intelligent creatures, adapting quickly to their surroundings and learning to pick out certain details from situations. As far as I'm concerned, they are volatile and unaffectionate, not to mention that horrendous screech.”

"Oh, boohoo. They're misunderstood."

"They are just as they appear. Stone-cold, straight-faced crop killers. Destroyers."

" _You_ are misunderstood," she dared to say, and didn't meet his eye when he turned to glare at her. Maybe she shouldn't have said it. But it was true. And she decided she'd be the one to finally understand.

"Presumptuous girls rarely have friends, and I see that rings true for you. You've got a dog and one organic leg and nothing more than a sack to your name."

 Or not.

“Says you! The cursed one! At least no one hates me enough to turn me into a scarecrow.”

“At least no one hated me enough to let me steal from farms and ask dogs for advice.”

Rey turned at that, swinging her staff against his legs and knocking him on his back with a thud. She sidestepped until she stood in front of him like a looming tower, pressing the end of her staff into his shoulder.

"I lost my leg in a factory accident when I was thirteen and dumb enough to trust dirty men with bleeding wallets. Two interlocking wheels and no safety shield. Took it in like a meat grinder and splattered it over everyone, myself included. I found my hound starving and alone in the forests of Faru, nursed him back to health, and trained him to locate parts based on the scent of their material. He won't hesitate to rip your hay-stuffed arm off and use it as a chew toy. My pack keeps me alive. And I'll have none of your judgmental bullshit while taking you to this wizard, else I'll march your ungrateful ass right back to your stick and make sure you never speak again."

Maybe her speech got a little out of hand, but she meant every word of it. She felt bad after a while, and realized that their situations would only worsen if they continued to bicker. She offered him a hand back up, one which he ignored as he stumbled to his knees.

“Get up. We’re almost to Takon.”

“The hell is that?”

“The markets.”

 


	2. bricks and crows and men on poles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for joining me for the adventures of haystack and robot-girl. enjoy xx anya

A whisper in her ear. At first she thought perhaps her blatant lack of sleep and nourishment had gotten to her or maybe Kylo was messing with her, but then it happened again, like a passing entreaty in the breeze. One whisper turned to a number of beckoning shadows, all calling her to them, begging her to _find them_.

 _Find them_ , they whispered, and she stumbled towards their call, entranced. A blur of black-green and shadowy dirt came and went before her eyes.

She knew not where she went, only that she had to _go go go_ before someone else did. The whispers merged and separated from one another, growing louder, louder, louder, piercingly louder the closer she followed, bringing her to a flimsy state of obedience that she couldn’t seem to shake. Foggy memory faded until there was nothing but the urgent whispers screaming in her head.

Until a fierce grip on her shoulder snapped her back to reality.

"Are you out of your mind?"

Kylo. Apparently he had regained control of his hands. His _strong_ hands. She ripped her shoulder away from his bruising fingers and opened her mouth to spit fire at him, but shut it the moment she noticed their surroundings.

"Where are we?" she asked, blinking up at him as if he had something to do with this.

"Where does it look like we are?"

She lifted her gaze to the gnarled trees that seemed to reach for her and shivered. Not so high above, scrawny vultures and red-eyed tree-dwellers craned their necks down at them, letting out warning chirps as if preparing to attack. Rey glanced down to find her hands stained with the soil she stood upon, noticing the dirt on her knees. The place she had unconsciously assaulted sat at the thick base of a tree. Vines wrapped viciously around its trunk and claimed inches of its roots, going so far as to plunge into the earth and spread their tendrils there.

“You didn’t hear them?” she whispered, falling to her knees once more to pull at the vines that blocked the ground.

“Hear what?”

Rey knew that something was here, waiting for her, or anyone, to discover it.

 _Find me_.

The voices had now twisted into something taunting and eerie and Rey whipped her head around to find the source of them. They persisted unintelligibly, surrounding her and giving her no idea of their place. When she faced back towards the tree, the whispers became more concentrated. Surely they wanted her here. Her hands tugged and clawed at the vines, hoping to find something underneath them, something to rid her head of the noises that about drove her mad.

“BB-8, come help me,” she called, ignoring Kylo’s comment about ‘the worst name-giver he’d ever met.’ The hound dug his paws into the soil and sniffed along the vines before grabbing a few in his mouth and proceeding to play tug-o-war. Each one he snapped was a victory for him and he greedily ripped more from the ground, delighting in his little game. Rey continued her assault upon the earth until Beebee paused and let out his usual warning yelp to alert her that he had discovered something.

And discover something he did. Beneath his dirty nose was a corner of what looked like the corner of an old brick fireplace. Rey swept the black dirt off of it and caught a glimpse of a color she hadn’t seen in years. Her heart stopped in her chest and quickly she tugged the artifact from its place, not willing to get her hopes up just yet. When she freed it, the whispers she had been vaguely aware of ceased at once. Her fingers brushed the soil from it and she stared, mouth agape.

It was impossible.

But no—it wasn’t. Not if it was staring her right in the face. 

She turned the hunk of the yellow brick road around in her fingers and felt it, felt the pulsing, benign energy humming within it. A hum of the likes she hadn’t felt in years. It was as though a shockwave rippled through her and took her back to a time when she had no fear of getting lost, no fear of straying from the path and into the very woods she sat in now.

Rey sighed.

Then she turned to her hound, who sat patiently beside her.

“You’re my good boy,” she praised, pressing her forehead into Beebee’s and giving him a little scratch under his chin. He licked her face excitedly and yipped in the back of his throat, always a happy receiver of compliments.

“How did you find that?” Kylo asked harshly as she pushed herself to her feet, brushing the dirt off her legs and feverishly unclasping her overalls. She let the front slide down to expose her stomach, and the overalls were so big she had to hold them up to keep the rest from pooling at her ankles.

“Sometimes things just…speak to me,” she said, fiddling with a notch just below her hip until she felt it click, “Maybe if you listen hard enough, you can hear them too.”

A few more tugs and fingers prying open a panel and she had the brick stowed away in her leg, the most secure place something could possibly find itself in these parts.

It wasn’t until she had righted her clothing that she noticed the shadow man staring at her with wide eyes, flustered beyond words, a blush now blossoming over his pale cheeks. Seriously, what was his deal?

“Come on then, Straw-brain,” she rolled her eyes, prompting Beebee into his favorite spot in her pack—right on top, with nothing but his nose poking out of the flap. Carrying around a 60-pound dog seemed irrational, yet she felt an unusual energy within this forest; and he was her baby, after all.

After securing him in place and letting Niney onto her shoulder, she hefted her pack back up onto her shoulders and checked her compass.

“The piece of the road will help us,” she said after some treading in silence, “My friend is a witch; she’ll be able to use it to find the path.”

He grumbled something about wasting time as he remained a sulking 3 feet away from her, stumbling through the brush and fighting not to trip over the gnarled roots that protruded from the ground.

It was rather strange to her—she thought that he would be grateful for her help, would be fawning over her as some heroine for the ages. Instead he was pouting like a child. But then again, she supposed she couldn’t have her cake _and_ eat it.

Rey jumped at the slightest of sounds and tried to ignore the panic she felt when she thought she saw a pair of eyes watching her. Kylo, however, seemed indifferent towards the forest and its suffocating energy, so she suspected he was either very good at suppressing his feelings or truly didn’t feel anything at all. He walked a few paces behind her no matter the circumstance, his footsteps growing more controlled the more he used his legs.

Exiting the dark woods was stranger than anything she had felt. There was no gradual deterioration of the dark land around her, no build up of different brush. When she stepped from slate-grey soil and onto a patch of green green grass, a feeling washed over her like she had clawed her way through tar and was just now reaching the surface after days of suffocation. An unidentified weight lifted from her chest and she no longer felt so heavy in her bones. Beebee snorted from his princely seat on her back, seemingly comforted by the fact that he could rest his legs without the fear of a vulture swooping down to hurt Rey; and Niney cooed in the back of her throat.

Even Kylo, who had appeared normal in the woods, looked relieved to find himself in a clear path void of lurking creatures and thorn-tailed roots.

The dirt trail they emerged from split two ways, bisecting a large field of wildgrass and plum trees and leaving little in the way of visibility, and never had Rey been so relieved to see rotting fruit on the ground. From her place on the trail, she could see the mere tops of the loosely-constructed lookout towers of Takon, and she remembered that in order to get to what’s on the right, one must start by going left. So she began her weary gait leftward, glancing back to be sure Kylo still followed her like a lost pup.

They treaded through the field, and Rey was pleased to find a cool breeze gracing her flushed skin. No water, no food, but luckily the wind distracted her from the heat. Hopefully the witch of Takon would have received a new shipment of potable water by the time they got there.

“We’re nearly to Takon,” Rey panted as they approached the edge of the field and started on a rocky path, leaning heavily on her staff to support her withering frame. She had resorted halfway through to letting Beebee down, and as a result Niney had immediately hopped off her shoulder and back onto his head. For that she was grateful.

“Try not to act like you’ve been tied to a stick for forever, else I’ll get in trouble by the Keepers,” she shuddered at the thought of the mute men in trench coats who wore plague-doctor masks and hid shock batons in their sleeves. As such, the Keepers had a special place in her nightmares ever since she was a girl.

“Takon’s _that_ way, darling,” came a snarky voice from directly above, “And once the Keepers find you there’s nothing you can do.”

Rey snapped her head upwards, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“Teedo,” she spat, eyes narrowed as she gazed up at the gaunt figure hanging before her, nothing more than a mismatch of skin and burlap and bionic parts, most of which needed a shine or some grease. But he wouldn’t find salvation with her.

“Helpin’ out an old scarecrow?” he drawled, dragging his good eye over her towering shadow, “Care to make it two?”

“Not after you tried to eat my dog and take off with my rations,” she barked, crossing her arms over her chest and moving to stand firmly between him and her caravan, “I should report you to Unkar.”

“Careful, sweetheart,” he tutted, pointing a bony finger at her, “You’re no angel, either. I could have you up for sale on the Undermarkets faster than you could beg me to stop.”

A dread thicker than tar sunk low in her stomach at the mere thought of becoming part of the human livestock in the Undermarkets, but she knew he was merely bluffing. She scoffed to hide her paralyzing fear of that damned place, the place that took her from her parents.

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

He threw his head back and let out a hoarse cackle, revealing where Unkar had tightened a rope around his neck, digging into the flesh and rubbing it raw and bloody. She saw his throat bob and shift the chafed skin, letting a fresh trail of blood to crawl down his dirt-stained neck and pool into his burlap shirt. 

“I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.” He dropped his head to his shoulder, a sick smirk on his face, before writhing around like something possessed him. Out from his ragged sleeve tumbled a mangy rat that shrieked when it fell to the ground before righting itself and scurrying away into the grass behind Teedo.

Rey wrinkled her nose in disgust and turned from him, leaning on her stick and motioning for Kylo to follow.

“Running away only gets you so far, angel face,” spat the skeleton man as they headed towards town, “What’ll you do when they catch you?”

Rey was an honest scavenger. She’d done her time, paid her dues. But this—this act of taking a scarecrow from his post—was beyond any act of treason she had committed. Taking a man from his post would be equivalent to assisting in a jailbreak. Often times scarecrows were criminals and prisoners and with a little magic, one could let them use their sentences as a means of productivity for the area. They weren’t good men—scarewomen weren’t a thing; in these parts they were usually sold off as indentured servants or put into Coven Reform programs. But Rey had a soft spot for the scaremen. (Though not Teedo.) Perhaps this would be the last time she could ever show kindness to one. She hoped to make it count.

 

* * *

 

Bustling with energy and packed with bodies of every shape and size, the streets of Takon held an infinitely lively crowd. Rey had yet to see the city when it wasn’t full of flesh and conversation and trades of all sort. Fruit vendors, magicians, witches, healers, the man of the charcuterie and his vaguely questionable meat. Everything was alive and buzzing yet such a change from the buzzing energy of the fields in Ruste. The sun had started its slow descent to the skies of the west and the light around them was a hazy blue, the kind of illumination that one would find in the summer before the fireflies would make their lazy rounds. 

The moment she stepped into the cobblestone street, a phony potion vendor turned from his cart and shoved right into her before stumbling back and mumbling something in Takon dialect about stupid girls and their stupid dogs. Not wanting to make a scene but desperately aching to put him in his place, she shot a murderous glare at him before shuffling away. 

“BB-8, stay close,” she said to the hound before deciding to clip his leash on and hook him onto her belt. Niney decided that she wouldn’t be safe jostling around on his head, so, with a disgruntled caw, she flitted over to Kylo’s shoulder. He huffed and swiped his arms around momentarily, clearly unimpressed by the bird’s black-blue feathers in his face.

Rey could only laugh.

It took some shoving and pushing through the masses of bodies until they made it to their destination, a grand stone building hundreds of years old, with sigils on strange banners hanging from the windows. A handcrafted sign of sculpted metal read:

MAZ’S APOTHECARY AND BAR

Kylo immediately turned his nose up at it with disdain, but Rey couldn’t have cared less. She had more pressing matters to attend to.

She moved to a section of the building front where two walls connected to form a corner and looked back at Kylo. He was tall enough to hide her, she decided.

“Cover me, will you?” she said, unhooking her overalls for a third time that day.

He looked at her like she had sprouted horns, and she felt her head just to make sure. So when she realized his clear incompetence, she took his wrists and placed them on the wall above her head on either side of her. He moved like a stiff machine needing oiled, and a rather heinous grunt worked its way from the back of his throat when he saw her messing with the ties on her chest wrap.

She flicked her eyes up to his and gave him a blank look. 

“Don’t peek,” she said, and immediately he screwed his eyes shut. 

“Fuck, what are you doing?” he spluttered, eyes still tightly closed. She resisted the urge to laugh at his incredulous outburst and instead grabbed his hips to move him closer and block more of her from the outside world.

“I told you, we’re visiting a witch,” she said, digging through her pack for a cleaner wrap to replace her sweat-soaked one. Once she found it, she began to weave that one on in methodical motions. 

She continued while shrugging her shirt back on, “If you want good results, you must present as nicely as you can. You can look now.”

Rey dusted off her pants as best she could, straightened out her buns. Then, because she was feeling bold, she brought her hand up to Kylo’s face and tucked a strand of hair back into its braid, noting how he flinched at her hand. It made her blink several times, a little startled, and she stared into those brown eyes, wondering what on earth could possibly scare a scarecrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the amazing feedback i received for chapter one! i love you all so so much and it means the world that scarecrow is as special to you as it is to me. sorry for any mistakes, it's unedited/unbeta'd xx anya


	3. why does rey always draw the short end of the stick?

A sneeze-worthy mix of patchouli and fried rice greeted her nostrils as she swung open the heavy door and stepped inside.

"REY OF THE EASTWIND SANDS!”

Rey cringed at the harsh announcement, noting how every head in the shop turned to face her. The hazy, warm glow of the bar did nothing to calm her nerves and she peered around the place to find where the voice came from. Her eyes skirted over creatures from near and far who came for an herbal shot or a spell—rich and poor, young and old, human and…not. Tables lined the walls and among the room were thick, mulberry-dyed curtains separating private rooms from the main event. There were jars on shelves, some delicate glass, and others of wrought iron, needing to be tied down, shuddering under their restraints.

A stout old woman, approximately one thousand and some-odd years old, came barreling from behind one of the first curtains and almost slammed right into her.

Ah. There she was.

“Come, come,” said Maz, dragging Rey towards her private table with an iron grip.

Rey beckoned for Kylo and the brigade to follow as she stumbled into the curtain and pried it open, still inexorably pulled by Maz and unable to escape.

A small, candlelit room lined with red cushions greeted her, along with the heavenly scent of food. The light was dim, but she could make out the low lying table and snacks galore on top.

“Shoo,” Maz said to a string of critters that sat on the cushions—a mouse, a robin, two cats. They scattered, and she scooted down to the edge of the table and resumed munching on her plate. The old woman tutted to herself.“I say, my familiars grow peskier the older I get.”

Then she turned to Rey. “How’s yours, child? Keeping you in line?”

“I suppose I wouldn’t be here if he truly was,” Rey said, glancing at the hound who panted contentedly beside her.

“Sit.” She slapped the cushion next to her and Rey obliged, stretching her bionic leg outward beneath the table and noting how Beebee followed close behind, making sure Kylo wouldn’t come any closer than he already had that day.

Kylo took his seat across from Rey, with their renegade crow still gracing his shoulder, and couldn’t move to where they weren’t brushing legs.

Maz grabbed Rey’s arm and brought it close to her face. If the woman continued to handle her like a concerned grandmother, she’d leave here bruised beyond recognition. 

"By the witches in the west, you're nothing more than bones. What have I told you about eating?"

"The food won't stick unless I actually eat it?" she said sheepishly, wanting to counter and explain that she had come across nothing of substance in a week, but no one, not even Rey, could argue with Maz.

Maz nodded and shoved a plate of assorted goods at her. Bright pink dragon fruits, sausage, rice, greens of all sorts, and some purple mush. All of it sat invitingly upon the plate and the smell wafted up to greet her nose so invitingly. Knowing not to refuse an offer of perfectly good food, Rey took handfuls of the vibrant assortment and shoveled it in, uncaring of who judged. Flavors of all sorts exploded over her tongue and she let out a satisfied groan.

"Precisely. And you"—she added another lens to her spectacles and, heaving her short body onto the table, squinted, grabbing Kylo's chin and pulling him closer—"I know you.”

Rey stopped mid-bite in a sausage to watch Maz and Kylo. With a sharp eye and pursed lips, she scrutinized him head to toe.

He swallowed harshly and took the liberty of pressing his hands into the table to keep from toppling over and spilling the food.

How did she know him? The old woman got around, but even Rey, who travelled the Backforests and Badlands, didn’t know him.

“The scarecrow. Aren't you a little _old_ to be in dealings with miss Rey?" She tilted her chin up and released him from her grasp, to which he jolted back and shifted uneasily in his seat.

"I'm an adult," Rey sniffed, feeling the need to enforce that she was, in fact, nineteen and not at all the scrawny brawler she was five years ago. In some cultures she’d heard of, she'd have been considered an adult before she bled.

"Oh, but when you've lived a thousand years, my dear, everyone is a child."

Rey really didn’t have time for her cryptic dialogue, so she cut to the point. “We were wondering if you had a map of the yellow brick road.”

The creases in her forehead became more pronounced as she raised her brows at their pleading faces.

“What are you up to?” she tutted.

“We’re going to see the wizard.”

Her eyes glinted as she crouched under the table and pulled out a box of assorted parts and mismatched candles. After some digging, she hummed with satisfaction and pulled out a slim case, a mortar and pestle, and two sprigs of dried rosemary.

“Have you got any piece of the road?” she inquired, and Rey nodded vigorously, unhooking her overalls to get to her leg.

From across the table, Kylo choked on the water he had been sipping and nearly coughed up a lung with all the hacking that followed, pushing Niney into an agitated frenzy of feathers and an ear-piercing squawk, pecking at his ear before he swiped at the bird and sent it to the other side of the table. His behavior was unbelievable, really. It wasn’t like she was _stripping naked_.

“What?” she snapped, glaring at his crimson cheeks across the table as she snaked an arm into her pants and dug for the latch on her leg. Their legs brushed against one another; Rey pretended she couldn’t feel the warmth radiating from him. Kylo had resorted to hiding behind a gloved hand before he glanced at Maz in a desperate attempt to stop her.

Maz merely chuckled.

“That’s just how she is, Scarecrow.” Then she leaned in, “Hope you can get used to it—you’ve got a long road ahead of you.”

Rey had managed to weasel the piece out of her leg, and placed it on the table before Maz. Wrinkled fingers snatched the yellow hunk and felt its ridges, bringing it up close to her huge eyes.

“How in the lands did you manage to find such a small piece?” she muttered, twisting her lenses to up the magnification.

“It called to me.” She glanced to Kylo, who worked his jaw and gave a curt nod in agreement. Damn his pretty eyes and his fat mouth and his crooked nose she thought was almost ugly but then changed her mind about later. He dragged her into this.

“I suppose you’re to follow it then.”

Rey nodded, then almost screamed when Maz tossed the hunk in the bowl and began grinding it down with the rosemary.

“What are you doing?!” she cried, tensing up and reaching forward and hoping like hell that there was a reason for this. Maz held up a hand and continued working. Rey settled in her seat, still upset.

“Do you want me to help you, child?”

Rey nodded again. 

“Then don’t question my methods,” she admonished, tapping the pestle on the edge of the mortar before focusing her attention on the case before her. She opened it to reveal a silver chain attached to a grey moonstone locket that glowed softly in the candlelight. She pried it open and scraped the residue from the bowl into the locket with her fingers, muttering unintelligibly under her breath. Seemingly satisfied with the outcome, she snapped it shut and gave it to Rey.

“The necklace will show you the path that the road once led. Wear it wisely.”

Rey gathered the chain in her fingers and brushed her thumb over the moonstone imbedded in the locket, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end at the power of the gem.

———————————————

They—or Rey, rather—thanked Maz and were shooed out after the old woman refused to accept any form of payment but for _them_ to _take_ a bundle of food for the road. It was dark and the streets had become less congested, making way for a night chill to settle in the air. Rey still watched her back and signaled for Beebee to stay on high alert for any imposing threats. He sniffed the ground and air with a sense of duty, and Rey looked over to Kylo, crow on shoulder, eyes downcast as he watched his feet.

“You’re not much of a talker,” Rey observed, watching how he hung his head and let his arms swing loosely by his sides. It was no small miracle that he hadn’t developed a hunchback for all those years with his head hung low and his hair in his eyes. 

“I don’t have much to say to you.”

What was _that_ supposed to mean?

“I’d think you’d be talking my ear off for having gone so long alone.”

“Thought wrong.”

As they neared the eerie edge of town where the buildings looked more like a ghost town, Rey realized she was on autopilot and didn’t know where they were supposed to be headed. She stopped mid-step in the middle of the road. Shifting through the pouch in her overalls, she found the necklace and hooked it around her neck. She expected some rush of energy, maybe a flash of light, but she didn’t feel any different.

Except—wait.

The edges of her vision turned fuzzy until she saw nothing but black, like she had been thrown into a dark cave. Panicked, she stumbled backward and bumped right into a firm wall of flesh. Kylo. She grabbed onto his arms from behind to stabilize herself, noticing how stiff he had become. But he was warm. Dammit.

She could feel the muscles in her eyes twitching as she frantically tried to look around, but everywhere was black. Black and shadowy, except for a flash that passed by her vision in certain spots. Closing her eyes (as if that would make a difference), she took a deep breath before opening them again and staring straight ahead. In the distance—or what she discerned as in the distance—there was the faint yellow outline of the road. Nothing else. Just the road.

Great. With a deeply frustrated huff, Rey ripped the necklace from her neck and tossed it away from her. Gradually, her vision came back to her until she was blinking away black spots from her vision. Then she released Kylo from her awkwardly strong grip on his arms and turned to face him, swallowing thickly.

“I’m not wearing that thing _ever_ again.”

“That _thing_ is the only chance we have at getting my heart back.” He spat, swiping it from where it had fallen on the ground and stuffing it into the pocket of her overalls. He looked about as perplexed as she felt, yet she couldn’t quite tell because the lamps on this side of town were dim.

“I couldn’t see! How am I supposed to—“ 

But cut off with a yelp as a rough hand gripped her shoulder and pulled her into an alleyway with such force that she stumbled backward and nearly fell flat on her back. With a yelp, she cried to Beebee, who was already on the man’s heels, nipping and growling as she whipped her staff around until she felt a rippling crack. The man grunted but his hold on her remained. Meaty fingers wrapped around her upper arms, bruising, tight enough lift her off the ground and bring her eye-level. The putrid odor of sweat and engine grease flooded her nostrils, and she wanted to vomit.

“Thief!” Unkar Plutt. “Where’s my money?”

She hadn’t even heard him coming down the road.

“Money? Only thing I owe you is a punch in the throat for trying to sell my hound to the meat market.” She stuck her chin up at him and looked him right in the eye, tired of his sleazy games to squeeze every last piece of coin out of her. He was even grimier in the haze of lamplight.

“No money, no parts, girl. I’ll take back my steel panels,” he said, and Rey had to stare at him for quite some time to realize he wasn’t kidding.

“The ones attached to my leg?” She tripped over a haughty laugh. “All sales final, Unkar—you said it yourself.”

They were a load of absolute garbage anyway! He fooled no one when saying they were steel; they rusted after a rainstorm and continued to do so gracelessly.

“It’s not a sale if you don’t pay.”

A bitter hatred boiled in her blood.

“I did pay you, every cent.” _And then some_ , she thought viciously; she had given him nearly all the money she had just to keep his hands off of her and silence his grotesque offers of physical deeds in exchange for parts. She could barely afford it at the time, but if she hadn’t replaced the panels in her leg, she wouldn’t have been able to go scavenging for parts to sell. Rey didn’t like to think about Unkar Plutt, for often it involved some mangled and faded memory of an emaciated girl cowering in a corner and a slimy old man promising things she didn’t understand. Corruption reeked from his sweat-soaked face, and Rey knew plenty of people—men and women alike—that he had manipulated for extra chits in his pocket.

She noticed now that a handful of his minions had shoved her dog aside and had seized Kylo, he a tense and brooding mess as he tried to wrangle out of their grasp. How had she not heard them? Normally she’d hear them a mile away and evaded them at all costs. Damn Kylo for causing her to lose focus.

“Rumor has it there’s a scarecrow that’s been untied.” He jerked his head in Kylo’s direction, eyeing him for a hot minute. “I’ve got a farmer who’d pay a pretty penny for one just like him. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it, Miss Rey?”

Rey glanced over at Kylo, thinking perhaps that field hadn’t been abandoned. No sense in worrying over it now—they were in too deep.

“Leave him out of this.”

“Pay up, then, _scavenger_ ,” he spat.

“I have nothing to give you.”

His features hardened as he looked her up and down taking in her scrunched and starved frame before settling his gaze on the silver chain that hung out of her pocket. He released her from his grip, leaving her to fall back with a crash of metal leg and spare parts in her pack. Upon impact, she tasted blood and felt it trickling down her nose and pooling over her mouth. Anemia, Maz had called it. Damn it all. Circumstance had made her physically nothing more than a creature needing to be put down—she said _I have spirit, watch me thrive_. But now, she didn’t feel like she was thriving.

Unkar reached down and pulled the chain from her pocket before she could object.

“What’s a pretty thing like this doing with a junkrat like you?” He turned the locket over in his palm, inspecting it to see its worth.

“It’s mine, and you’ll give it to me.” 

“I don’t take orders from you,” he scoffed, looking down at her, “I _own_ you, girl.”

“I don’t belong to anyone but myself,” she spat, scrambling to her feet and _praying_ that her leg wouldn’t act up now as it had been recently.

He looked smug when next he spoke. “Your parents’ signature says otherwise.”

She gritted her teeth and her nostrils flared, fists balling at her sides as she weighed her options. Kick him in the sack and make a run for it before realizing her friends were behind? No. Letting him take her in? _Absolutely_ not.

Yet—she wouldn’t have to chose at all, it seemed.

Suddenly a low-pitched, between-the-lips-and-teeth whistle pierced through the sleepy town. There was a certain and indescribable power about it, one that sent a shudder through her spine. Niney, who had been swooping around the thugs holding Beebee by the scruff of his neck, now took to Kylo’s shoulder like an obedient pet.

And then it felt as though the moonlight had been snuffed out, the lamps in the streets extinguished.

Thousands of thunderous wings beat heavily against her eardrums, so loud yet so uncertainly far that a panic settled within her. How many? Vultures? Monarchs?

She hadn’t planned to see the Maker today, but perhaps there was an opening in its schedule.

Crows. 

Feathers and underwing fluff graced the alleyway from all angles before settling to reveal the biggest gathering of corvid friends she had ever seen. They stared down with their beady little eyes from the edges of the rooftops, the dumpster lid, the haphazard power lines connecting each building to a stream of energy. 

Unkar whipped his head around, eyes bulged as he took in the saturated sight of at least a hundred crows surrounding them. His masked minions gaped

“You have three bloody seconds to explain this nonsense before I put you and your scarecrow up in the Market House, girl!”

Rey looked over to Kylo, on his knees and arms contained, who, for the first time since she met him, smirked. 

“Blackout.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which i am a garbage can because i hate this garbage chapter for having stared at it for over 3 months. maybe you'll like it. it's unedited bc i can't look at it anymore. xx anya 
> 
> (maybe i'll have another chapter up this month?? hopefully)


	4. run.

All her life, Rey looked after herself, her dog, and then herself once more. No one protected her—she did that on her own. No one tucked her in at night, no one guarded her from the darkness. She was fine.

Rey had fallen to the clutches of darkness many times before. She found solace in the nights she had a safe, dark place to rest and a blanket to cover her body. She found petrified fear in the darkness of her own mind, when it ate at her happiness and brought on thoughts of vengeance. She was no stranger to its many forms. But this darkness was different. It was pulsing, frothing, churning out power that only precision and skill could achieve.

Crows swooped down from every angle—loud, angry, chaotic. They cawed and screeched, pecking and flapping and raising all sorts of hell at Unkar and his mischievous band of tyrants and never once harming a hair on her friends. 

How was Kylo able to communicate complex things to these birds so simply? It was a blessing. Perhaps he...wasn’t as dreadful as he seemed. If that was the case, she would have stopped helping him by now. The only thing keeping her from ditching him was his general silence. (And yes, he deserved a chance to live just as anyone did.)

As she stood there in complete awe of the sheer power of the birds that attacked with such violent bliss, a fierce hand yanked her away from where she had glued herself to the ground. She snapped her head to the side to find Kylo dragging her by the arm and pushing her towards the end of the alleyway.

Regaining some of her sense as she heard him shout something at her, Rey sprinted as fast as her body would let her, kicking her clunky leg out to the side with each step to try and make better time. Where was she going? Think, think. She heard the dense steps of her hound sprinting beside her and risked a glance backward, too afraid not to for fear that Kylo would be out of sight. 

But there he was, with about thirty crows screaming behind him, like a harbinger of death with the many beasts of his success. 

Witch’s curse, he was beautiful. but she’d have to pinch the nerve of longing she felt when she looked at him. It would get her into nothing but trouble. He was a sullen, brooding scarecrow, not at all like the man she imagined when she dreamt of her future. Yet she couldn’t help the irresistible pull she felt towards him. Ugh. Had she really become this lonely?

Another glance back. More crows forming a wall of blue-black feathers, more of Kylo looking princely and powerful.

Where was she to go with company like that?

In the near distance, she heard the moan of a locomotive engine.

Answer.

Panting, she forced her burning body to move a little faster, push a little harder. She could do this. It wasn’t far. The train station was near the town, and they could make it on from where she planned to meet it.

They had edged into the awkward transition area from town to farmland where houses were only slightly closer together, and she could see in the distance the telltale lights of the engine. It was a cargo train; fast; a little outdated, but what wasn’t in these parts? It would still be hard to find an empty car, but she’d make it work. She would have to.

Maker, it felt like her lungs had caught fire as she forced herself to keep going, keep fighting, imagine the worst pain you’ve ever felt and compare it to how little this is. They were about twenty yards from the train when Kylo finally realized her plan.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” She heard a shout from behind. Huh. Must not be a big fan of jumping onto moving trains. Neither was she, but she ignored his complaints and pushed on.

“Do or die in these parts, haystack!" 

But she had only done this once in her life, and almost died because of it. But Unkar and his minions were ruthless unless you meant business booking it out of there and lost him early in the game. She had to follow through, else there’d be word the next morning about the runaway scarecrow and his militia of crows, aided and wholly encouraged by the scavenger girl of the Eastwind Jakku sands, _Terminate On Sight_.

The train was fast approaching and she knew it would only be out of luck to find a car that was relatively empty, and she begged whatever forces were out there to please, _please_ cut her some slack for once in her life.

“Come on!” she shouted over the scream of the train’s whistle, much louder now. The trees around them had become more condensed to a gradual forest. She could see where people had vandalized the sides of the clunky train cars, and every one that passed through the clearing and disappeared back into steady forest was an open-top mineral cart. Her heart sank and her step faltered, fear and deafening panic seeping into her bones as she slowed her pace with each train car she counted.

She wouldn’t be able to climb a mineral cart, much less a moving one.

But the hand pushing between her shoulder blades told her differently. Rey glanced over to a grim-faced Kylo, too tired to shrug off the hand that urged her to move.

“We can’t make that,” she cried to him, forcing her metal leg to clank along obediently, though it creaked and groaned and begged her to stop.

He rolled his eyes at her dramatics, clearly unconvinced. “You said do or die.”

Well, yeah. But that was when she thought they could make it. 

“Look,” he pointed over to the train that was twenty feet from them, “Empty and open.”

And he was right. Miraculously, an empty and _open_ train car presented itself and Rey now noticed how slow the train was moving. That lifted her spirits enough to push harder. They were so close she could smell the sharp grind of metal against metal. 

“BB-8,” she panted to the hound, who was close enough to the train to get hurt, “Jump.”

Obedient as ever, the dog jumped easily onto the platform, skidding to a stop and turning to watch Rey and company catch up.

And catch up she did, enough to where she was stumbling to keep up with the car, hand reaching out to grab the handle on the open door that was always just out of reach. With a frustrated cry, she pushed her aching limbs, her burning lungs, to work quicker, push harder. Beebee peeked his head over to her, an incessant whine as he sniffed her out. 

Damn it. Rey felt herself slipping, slipping, slipping away from the train, away from the only excuse she’d ever had to get the hell out of Ruste. 

Until hands like crackling thunder grabbed her waist and pushed her up that extra inch to reach the handle and pull herself in. She quickly turned to see Kylo sprinting next to the train, grim face set in determination as feathers and fluff flew past him like snow. _Angel of darkness_ , she mused before shooting her hand out to him. He took it with a grip so strong the leather of his dirtied gloves squeaked against her palm wrappings, and it was solid and real and it felt so _good_ to feel another soul without contempt. Only...curiosity. Curiosity as she heaved him towards her with a grunt. Curiosity as he fell to his back and took her down with him in a calamity of clanks and clicks and clunks, curiosity when her hand met his solid chest and she didn’t even flinch when he took her fingers between his index and thumb, inspecting her and admiring her in a moment so brief she questioned if it even happened.

Rey sprung from the floor, sitting back and grabbing her ankles like a giddy child.

“How did you do that?” she exclaimed, still caught up in the thrill of the moment. His skill gave her a newfound admiration of him.

“I don’t know. I just...felt like maybe I could try it to see what happened. Strange.”

“It’s brilliant is what it is! Have you practiced the craft before?”

He merely shrugged, but she noticed the way his lips twitched into a suppressed smirk. Rey had heard of those with the ability to communicate with animals, but never had she heard of them calling on entire flocks to do whatever was commanded of them. It was a gift that only someone with proper training and a background of magic could use, like the Head Witches of the Covens.

Suddenly Rey became very aware of the numbers of corvid friends flanking them from all sides, watching and waiting as if awaiting Kylo’s next move.

“Scatter.” With a wave of his hand the birds quite literally scattered in a rush of blue-black feathers and obedient caws.

Forcing herself to stand, Rey looked out at the inky night and watched the birds go off before sliding the door closed and making sure it was secured. Switching on her pocketlamp that gave the car a luminous glow, she sat before her pack to take inventory of their possessions, but couldn’t help her wandering eyes that kept peeking over to the shadowy man who lay back against his elbows, his head thrown back and his eyes closed. He was still trying to regain control of his breathing. 

“You saved me, scarecrow,” she said quietly, knowing that he only did it because she promised to help him but nonetheless feeling wanted, feeling important.

“I saved _us_ ,” he corrected, pointing a finger at her.

“Whatever. The point is that we’re not dead.”

“Happen to know where this train is going?” he asked, peeking one eye open to look at her.

“It’s headed towards the City. The yellow brick road went through there, so maybe we can find help there.” And then she remembered that in the heat of the moment, she never took back the moonstone from Unkar Plutt. All the more reason to follow the train then?

It was fine. She’d figure it out later. But for now, she was bone-tired and needed a snack.

With a swift hand, she unbuckled her overalls, pulled her shirt off, and sprawled out on the floor, letting her hair down and spreading it out in the waves made from her buns. The cool night air from the vents in the car prickled the sweat on the back of her neck and she closed her eyes, letting it chill her and listening to the blood pumping in her ears as she slowed her breathing.

"The good thing about having one leg is that I can keep things in the other one," she said with a grin, looking over at Kylo as she jammed her fist into the large panel of the bionic thigh, and it popped open to reveal a bundle of cookies she snagged from the vendor when they had passed through the city. His disappointment couldn’t have been more potent. 

He scoffed when Rey fed one to a gentle-mouthed Beebee and gave some crumbs to Niney perched on his head, both of whom showed their gratitude with a wag or a caw.

“You’re just jealous,” she said as she shoved one into her mouth, fighting to hide a smile.

“That’s it.” He rolled his eyes and stared out sullenly through the imperfections in the door at the night sky. It looked greener than blue tonight, she thought, following his gaze.

“Want one?” Sitting up, she offered him the sleeve of cookies and he stared down disdainfully at them. No appetite for the scarecrow?

"Wouldn't the weight of your body be too much for a hollow that large?" he asked, steering the conversation elsewhere.

"Not at all," she said, excited to explain her leg to someone other than Beebee, "I salvaged a titanium rod from an old piece of farm equipment and it acts as the femur. It's so strong that I turned over a ground-based vehicle with it. Then that's attached to what acts as the muscles that would be part of my hip and wrap around my leg, but since I don't have those, this leg is just to give me balance and make sure I don't fall over. It barely succeeds in that. I could go on and on about the thousands of little cogs in my leg but I'd bore you to death…Can scarecrow men die?"

"Yes, Rey. We live just as long as you. We were humans once." He spoke to her as if she was dense. 

“I’m only half human, thank you,” she said, sticking her chin up.

“Half-munchkin as well, then?” he teased, and she nearly decked him. She wasn’t _that_ short! She was above average for a woman, in fact. He just happened to be a _giant_.

“My mother was a witch and my father was a warrior.”

“I don’t see you shitting amethyst and refilling goblets of wine.”

Ugh. “That’s not what they’re like!”

“Do they grant wishes and turn frogs into princes?”

“No!”

“Show me what they’re like, then. I’ve got nothing but time.” He leaned back against a stack of burlap and rested his head on his arms, the smallest hint of a smirk on his lips.

Rey flushed at the thought. Oh no. No. “That would be entirely inappropriate.”

“How so?” he challenged, pushing himself up with his elbows. Of course he wouldn’t let up easy. And she could just as harshly shut him down with a few words and a shove to the shoulder, but what would be the fun in that? They _did_ have time to kill. He wasn’t the worst person with whom she’d kept company, and maybe she was starting to like him.

So she leaned in and closed the gap between them, pressing her lips into his. It was warm and lovely and _gentle_ and nothing like she had imagined, but she had practically nothing to compare it to. He froze and for a moment she was sure he would deck her, but then he reached up and gripped the back of her neck to tug her _closer_ , guiding her, consuming her. Soft, greedy lips nipped her own in an endearing show of droughty desperation and fuck if she couldn’t sense the way he pulled pulled pulled her in and wanted more than he could hold. Like the wings of a bee brushing against a petal, it was soft and cautious and subtle, but she pulled back before either could even think to deepen the kiss. His breathing was harsh near her ear and she had no desire to look at him. But she did, tucking a loose strand of hair out of her eyes. She wished she hadn’t. Swollen lips, pink cheeks—he was so lovely that she ached in her chest.

He looked up, bewildered.

“She was a dark witch. Lusty magic,” Rey whispered breathlessly, “I was the product of such…conjurings.”

“And you? Can you…use magic…during….” he trailed off, his ears poking bright red through his hair. His lips were plump and pink, and Rey now knew that they were just as soft as they looked. Nothing like a scarecrow's should have been. Nothing like she thought.

She looked away, not really wanting to tell him that she had never shared her body with anyone but herself. But it wasn’t necessarily purposeful; the pickings were slim, and that was only when she crossed paths with others on the days she went to the trading posts. Any other day she was lucky to see a chipmunk scurry across her path.

“Wouldn’t know,” she said, blushing.

“Let's find out," he whispered, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her into his lap. A squeak of surprise turned into a sigh when he tugged on her hair and pressed a messy mouth to her throat, using his other arm to hold her flush against him. _Oh_. She _quite_ liked this. 

It all happened so quickly. She hooked an arm around his neck and rocked her hips against his, delighting in the twist of her groin and the strangled moan that fell from Kylo’s lips as he bit at her throat. Rey hadn't the slightest idea what she was doing, but it felt right. And she wanted _more_. The growing warmth between her legs demanded it. 

First time for everything, and this was when Rey found out for the first time that Kylo couldn’t control himself. His hands—digging into the supple flesh of her hips, one sliding up to rest on her neck and tug her closer and the other sliding down the curve of her back.

Rey had witnessed magic many times in her life. But the writhing, untamed, inexplicable energy pulsing through her was a sensation both foreign and thrilling. She no longer had to wonder if what Maz had told her about her parents long ago was true; the evidence was clear.

But dammit, she knew nothing about him but his name and she wouldn’t just sleep with him for shits and giggles.

She pulled away from his greedy mouth, hands on his chest to keep him at arms length.

"If you're a scarecrow, then how does...?" She blushed and looked away, suddenly shy.

“I’m not exactly a scarecrow. Well—I am. But I didn’t trade my body for straw like the rest of them. If that’s what you’re worried about—“

“No,” she cut him off, and if she thought her face couldn’t burn any stronger, she was wrong, “I’m just…You’re a _scarecrow_.”

He understood then, his face hardening to something like offense. “I’m not a criminal. I’ve just been cursed. And I still don’t have a fucking heart.”

She pressed her ear to his chest and found an unsettling absence of the usual thump one might find.

“How do you live?” she asked wide-eyed, realizing soon after she sat up how stupid she sounded.

“What’s the fun in knowing every little secret?” he mused, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth, “Now get off of me.”

Then something strange caught her eye. 

“Your arm,” she said suddenly, noticing that the sliver of skin on his upper arm had a strange speck on it. Upon closer inspection, she saw that he had a piece of straw protruding from his arm, and promptly pinched it between her fingers and ripped it out. It was long and bloody and he jerked away violently when she kept tugging to get it out.

He hissed and clutched the front of her overalls, teeth bared and eyes screwed shut.

Oops. 

“I’m sorry!” she cried, staring at the blood on her fingers, the blood dripping down his arm. “Shit, I’m so sorry.”

Frantically she began to press her fingers into his arm to stem the blood, but he jerked away once more.

“Why would you do that?” he growled, ripping the straw from her fingers.

“I don’t know!“ she exclaimed, trying once more to staunch the flow, “I thought you said you had all your organs intact!”

He didn’t respond, and instead was staring down at the bloodied hay in his fingers.

Oh no.

“Oh Maker,” she said, dread pooling in her gut as the realization dawned on her, “You’re turning into a haystack!”

 ————————————

A chill woke her. Rey opened her eyes to the peaceful darkness and a scene of sleepy bodies before her. After a decent time of Kylo explaining that the effects of the curse were setting in and a time of Rey pacing, they eventually slipped into a wary sleep. All was well, but the lilting wind peeking through the cracks in the car sent a chill down to her bones.

“Beebee,” she mumbled, snapping her attention to the hound who snored at her feet. He grunted and rolled over to face her, but he made no impression of moving. Sighing, she sat up and grabbed beneath his front legs, dragging his limp form up to her side. The hound sniffed, as if offended to be moved, but then stretched out beside her and let her rest her head on his back.

Her good boy was warm. But not warm enough.

Shivering, she scooted her and Beebee closer to the mountain of body heat beside her, hoping to catch some of it for herself. She felt some of his warmth radiating onto her back, but it wasn't nearly enough. Another inch, and another wave of that delicious heat that coated one more piece of her. When she was just close enough to brush elbows with him, he stirred, turning his head to clear his disoriented state.

Through the darkness, she could see his confusion as he blinked at her. She sat frozen, hand poised just above the cowl that covered a hilariously small portion of his tall body. He barely needed it anyway; his robes covered him just fine.

"Cold," she whispered, teeth chattering. They were centimeters away from brushing noses.

"Put a shirt on," he grunted, voice thick with sleep.

She shivered again, unwilling to disclose that she couldn’t find her shirt in the dark, nor did she want to go looking for it. She almost wanted to spite him and roll over and pretend to sleep, but she felt her body temperature dropping and if she froze to death, what good would that do her or Kylo? 

“K-Kylo,” she stuttered, hoping that consistency would help.

He took a long, deep, exasperated sigh before caving. The robes weren’t much, but he offered what little of them he could spare as he draped them over her legs. The moment he lifted his arm, she squirmed in next to him uninvited, engulfed under his thick robes and flush against his chest. He stiffened only momentarily before seeming to decide that sleep was much more important than their position.

Oh, she _liked_ this. More than she probably should. But he was oh so warm and the way he still smelled like the sweet sun-dried wheatgrass of the open fields thawed her more than anything.

His breathing evened out once more and she found herself listening to his hollow chest again—the way the only sound that echoed in him was his breath and the expansion and deflation of his lungs.

A life without a heart...she barely managed life without a leg. But without a vital organ? Maybe a wicked witch had it locked in a little box somewhere, where the poor thing pumped empty in its cage, waiting to be returned to its owner.

“Kylo?”

He grunted in response. 

She hesitated at first; she didn’t want to be insensitive.

“How long did you hang there? Before I found you?” 

He grimaced and turned his back to her, obviously not ready to rub salt in such fresh wounds. But after a few minutes of silence, there came a sullen grumble from the mountain of shadows.

“Twelve years. Now go the hell to sleep.”

Rey couldn’t help the tiny gasp she made upon hearing this information.

Twelve years! He hung there longer than half the years she’d been alive! How did he survive like that? Surely he hadn’t gone twelve years alone, with no one to even ask him directions? But then again, one rarely crosses paths with a silent scarecrow, and when they do, they tend to walk on until they find one that “works.” 

Something like remorse pinched in her chest to think that she had screamed at him for drinking all her water earlier that fateful day.

A sudden and overwhelming urge washed over her, one telling her to take his hand with genuine intention and _be there_ , for this man knew more about neglect and isolation than she ever thought possible. He knew what it felt like to be lonely.

Take him to be a lover? Not in the slightest.

But to be a companion. To be company. _Enjoyable_ company. Oh, how she desired it. She took the liberty of assuming that that was what he wanted, too.

But he was the coldest brute she’d ever met. Not even her warm mouth on his could soften his curt resolve and sharp tone. Rey assumed that losing his heart meant losing himself as well. Or maybe he really was like that. Or maybe, just maybe, a decade and two years of hanging on a stick, exposed to the elements and left to isolation, made a man emptier than a rainwater barrel in a drought.

Rey set her jaw, wrapped her short arms tightly around his waist, and buried her cheek into his warm back. She was determined to fill this empty man with something other than pessimism.

————————————————————

So yeah they kissed, and yeah, maybe she liked it a lot, and yeah, sure, maybe she wrapped her arms around him and prayed to whatever higher spirit was out there to give her circumstance to love him, but they _weren’t_ anything but brand-new acquaintances. And of course she associated with the scarecrows but she didn’t want to be associated with him but she did but she didn’t but she _totally_ did and Maker, she needed a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope it's not going too fast?? i also hope you like it, and as always i adore your feedback!
> 
> sorry for any mistakes or unfinished sentences. i'll probably come back later and thoroughly review it but for now im tired of looking at these words and hopefully you'll like looking at them
> 
> xx anya


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